The King's First Minister - a UK AAR

[El Pip]

That said, wouldn't it be easier for the Japanese to pursue the Dutch East Indies with little to no prospect of retaliation from any major power?

I can't see the Japanese going for it, they'd have the Philippines AND Malaya at the throats of their supply lines to the DEI. Given they were desperately keen to avoid one I really think they wouldn't voluntarily have both.

Of course it depends what the Japanese opinion of Britain is, it was pretty damned low to start with (almost an afterthought to pre-war planning) and has doubtless fallen further after Milan. I suppose the question is has the stream of reinforcements out East been enough to rebuild the British position or has Halifax irrevocably damaged it?

 

[MITSGS John]

I can't see the Japanese going for it, they'd have the Philippines AND Malaya at the throats of their supply lines to the DEI. Given they were desperately keen to avoid one I really think they wouldn't voluntarily have both.

Of course it depends what the Japanese opinion of Britain is, it was pretty damned low to start with (almost an afterthought to pre-war planning) and has doubtless fallen further after Milan. I suppose the question is has the stream of reinforcements out East been enough to rebuild the British position or has Halifax irrevocably damaged it?

It's a tough call. The Japanese may think that the British and Americans are morally flabby societies and will roll over like so many cheese-eating surrender monkeys. On the other hand, an undistracted Britain backed up by the white Dominions (whose armies are not going into the bag on Crete or having a serious episode of Qattara Depression in Egypt) could give them pause, even leaving out the Americans.

Off on a bit of a tangent, I've been reading up The Great Depression lately, and a lot of scholars agree that absent the looming threat of the war in OTL, Roosevelt has to run on his rather weak domestic record and either bows out after two terms or gets pounded in the 1940 election.

 

[Nathan Madien]

Off on a bit of a tangent, I've been reading up The Great Depression lately, and a lot of scholars agree that absent the looming threat of the war in OTL, Roosevelt has to run on his rather weak domestic record and either bows out after two terms or gets pounded in the 1940 election.

True. In this AAR, Roosevelt defeated Taft in 1940...not so much because people wanted Roosevelt for a third term but because Taft couldn't win.

I imagine the outcome being much closer than it was historically.

Although, with Halifax at the helm, it would be very easy to assume that the British would cede India to preclude a nasty diplomatic mission, let alone actually fight a war...

Then give Ghandi over to Japan and wash their hands of him.

 

[Le Jones]

Chapter 141, Hong Kong, 16 August 1941

The Royal Navy seaboat chugged into the vast harbour, passing mighty battleships, noble cruisers and the dirty workhorses of the destroyer and patrol flotillas. The young Lieutenant commanding the seaboat beamed as his little craft took salute after salute, a rare occurrence for an insignificant harbour cutter. The boat turned into the harbour, wheeling sharply to port to come alongside. A small knot of officers and a line of staff cars waited at the top of the jetty steps. Ahead of them a Commander, resplendent in gold braid, offered a crisp salute as a naval band struck up a jaunty rendition of “Thine be the Glory”. General Sir John Dill, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, bounced up the steps and offered a quick reply to the salute.

“General, welcome to Hong Kong,” the Commander muttered. “General Franklyn’s compliments, and he looks forward to welcoming you at the Headquarters this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Commander. Will my baggage be sent over from the Norfolk?”

The Commander smiled. “Already done sir, and in the Mess with your batman.”

A few hours later, suitably washed and changed, Dill was taken on a tour of the Colony’s military preparations. With the end of the war (for Britain) in Europe, and the emergence of Japan as a threat, Eden and Dill had carefully tried to improve the defences of Hong Kong, Malaya, Burma and India whilst avoiding a wave of panic at the sign of the Empire “digging in”. Singapore and Malaya he had assessed in his letter to Eden as “reasonably defensible”; the staff there was adequate and the defences had seen some improvements. The last leg of this tour, which had started in the Pacific and had taken in Australia and New Zealand, now saw him at the focus of much of his fingernail biting: there was just no obvious way of making sure that Hong Kong could not fall. The truth was stark: the resources allocated fell short of the requirement, leaving Burma and the Pacific islands particularly vulnerable, and there was an ongoing apparent unwillingness from Delhi (Dill’s next stop) to look beyond Auchinleck’s Indian Army and embrace its wide-ranging responsibilities. The ‘Auk’ had been a godsend in India, winning the loyalty of his vast, multi-racial army of Indian, British, Burmese and West African order of battle; this had been achieved despite renewed Indian nationalism. Ironside, taking over from Linlithgow during Dill’s visit, realised that his predecessor had been of little use and every Briton in India was eagerly looking forward to “Tiny” taking over. Dill, following the wild and evocative reports of General Menzies (which, Dill thought sourly, had a worrying grip upon the Cabinet), had journeyed to the Asian possessions to see for himself the strategic situation.

His first meeting was to be that most British of things: afternoon tea with the officers of Franklyn’s garrison. As he arrived for the gathering, the strained attempt at “keep the home fires burning” by the band of the 2nd Battalion, the Duke of Wellington’s Regiment drifted over the cricket pitch, and Dill mused over how commonplace this scene was.

“Relax, gentlemen, relax, do try to enjoy yourselves as much as you can,” Dill said with greater enthusiasm than he felt. Franklyn, apprehensive (Dill was convinced that this was his “only setting”) for the occasion’s success, formed a tight smile as he led the CIGS to the first group, a gathering of officers from the staff.

“At ease, gents,” Dill said as he took tea, with a slice of lemon, from an immaculate orderly. The man’s uniform, despite its clean appearance, was obviously dated, as was much of the clothing, webbing and equipment of the various units in the garrison. Dill realised how starved of resources the Far Eastern stations had been as Gort’s BEF had received the priority for funding.

“So,” said Dill with enforced levity. “How is life in Hong Kong?”

“Very good sir,” a Captain of the Royal Artillery offered. Dill realised that the man wouldn’t say anything else; he probably ‘belonged’ to Franklyn or his senior team and wouldn’t want to jeopardise his prospects by ‘croaking’ to a visitor. Dill exchanged the necessary pleasantries and then went beyond, to the next group, a group from the newly arrived East Lancashire Regiment. Their pale faces and new-looking European battledress marked them as newcomers. These were the people that Dill wanted to meet.

“Well gentlemen, how have the first few weeks been?”

“Al-alright Sir,” a hesitant Major offered. “It’s so very different from home,” he said wistfully.

“In what way?”

“Well, working with the Navy and Air Force, as well as the civil authorities, it all takes time.”

“And,” a Lieutenant, Dill guessed from the Major’s company, offered in support, “there’s the local population. Everything is such an effort out here.”

Dill nodded, pleased to be getting some genuine comments. “And do you have much communication with the command in Delhi?”

They were genuinely surprised. The senior of the officers present, the battalion CO, tried to hide behind a question. “Sir, perhaps that this is a question for the staff?”

“I’ve asked the staff, now I’m asking you. Do you receive any guidance from General Auchinleck’s Headquarters?”

The Lieutenant Colonel’s silence spoke volumes. Dill accepted that a battalion CO would rely on his brigade and divisional leaders for the day-to-day guidance, but the lack of direction and doctrine given to the Hong Kong troops from Delhi was seriously worrying for Dill. He could sense that Franklyn had tensed beside him, but if he was brutally honest didn’t care; the lack of liaison between Delhi and the ‘outstations’, the GOCs of Malaya and Hong Kong, as well as the scattered islands, was clearly a matter that needed to be dealt with. Nor, sadly, was he satisfied with the level of cooperation between the three services: It all felt very amateur. He turned to look at General Franklyn, who looked deeply anxious, and felt sympathy with the GOC of the Hong Kong Command. This mess isn’t your fault, Dill thought as he looked as his pensive subordinate. You’ve worked wonders getting the garrison this prepared, but we need to do better.

“Well, gentlemen, enjoy the afternoon,” Dill said with confidence. He went with Franklyn into the next phase of his visit, the staff talks. He entered the reading room of the mess, which had been laid out with maps and charts. Franklyn, normally so tightly fretting, was more relaxed.

“Sir, may I present to you this plan for the defence of the colony,” Franklyn muttered this whilst arranging a map on the table. The officers clustered around it.

“Sir, as you can see the main threat from Hong Kong will come from the North, from Japanese and allied forces pressing down through the hills into Kowloon and Kai Tak and then threatening Victoria,” one of Franklyn’s officers, Brigadier Kitchen, led the discussions. Dill had met Kitchen before, when the Brigadier worked in the Intelligence Staff; he had formed an instant dislike of the glib Kitchen then and the light-hearted manner of his delivery was irritating to Dill. He had a tight, bony face, deep set black eyes with tobacco stained teeth and lank, greasy hair. Rumours abounded about the failure of his marriage, and as Dill looked at the toothy, childish grin on Kitchen’s face he fought to fight his revulsion.

“So Sir, as I said earlier, we have just completed a chain of defensive positions in the hills around Kowloon. This will be garrisoned by the forty-fifth division: they’re the more experienced of the divisions.”

“A chain of defensive positions?” That was Lieutenant General Percival, still soldiering on as Dill’s Chief of Staff (an assignment that caused unhappiness among more senior, overlooked generals) and scribbling in a notebook.

“Well, actually defensive line is the better description. Tanks traps, barbed wire, artificial cuttings, with strongpoints providing extensive coverage of the battlefield,” Kitchen answered with confidence, in his irritating, slightly smug voice.

Near Percival the Royal Engineer Major, Voyce, coughed pointedly. “It’s designed to use the topography to our advantage,” Voyce said in his clear, confident tone. “We’ve used our experiences in Malaya to good effect, as the General will recall during his visit there earlier this week. The idea is to minimise our efforts, to augment rather than drastically alter the natural terrain. We’ve already got the Gin Drinker’s Line, and my team have added further, more comprehensive works.”

Dill smiled at Voyce’s explanation. He turned to Percival, who looked up from his notes to speak. “Before I leave this subject, do you not think that morale would be improved by a departure from these obsessively defensive tactics?”

“Frankly, Sir, that is a misguided notion.”

Percival didn’t challenge Voyce. He asked his next question in a half-murmur. “Artillery?”

“The understrength men of the seventy-seventh. Some twenty-five pounders, though we’ve acquired some howitzers from the Indian chaps,” next to Kitchen a major of the 77th Field Regiment Royal Artillery nodded his agreement.

Dill raised an eyebrow. “Any anti-air defences?”

Kitchen’s air of smug contentment was punctured as he shook his head. “Dealing with aircraft is the RAF’s concern, Sir.”

The RAF liaison, a Wing Commander, turned to look suddenly at Kitchen in horror. Dill spotted this and looked at him, his expression one of shrewd understanding. “Does that present a problem?”

“We’ve only got three squadrons of Hurricanes, all of them understrength.”

Dill’s voice was icy. “How many planes do you actually have to use in the defence?”

“Er, perhaps thirty, Sir.”

There was a silence in the room. Dill looked again at the map of the colony spread out below him. “Brigadier Kitchen, you mentioned that forty-fifth division would guard against the mainland?” Kitchen nodded. “What are the dispositions of the sixty-first division, as well as the Hong Kong Defence Force?”

“A reserve, Sir,” Franklyn in said in his first contribution to the strategic debate. “Held in readiness to assist the forty-fifth, as well as to repel any seaborne assault.”

Dill nodded, happy that at last something had been correctly considered. “Given that the Navy will be understandably absent for long periods you must be alert to the threat of an amphibious assault. I approve of your efforts,” he said the last part lightly, trying to inject some hope into the assembled officers. Kitchen’s brazen attitude aside, they were so gloomy. In Malaya, where Dill had toured the Singapore facilities and had noted, with Dill, the confidence (he feared over-confidence) of the headquarters planners, talk of a Japanese attack was swiftly brushed aside; Dill and Percival had left their meetings fearing that those leading the (roughly) 80,000 British and Indian troops in Malaya were overlooking critical strategic concerns. The problem in Hong Kong was different, in fact it was a total contrast; they were just too demoralised. Franklyn, Dill knew, had worked hard to turn the mess he had inherited into a reasonably professional command. It was just that Franklyn was undemonstrative, reserved. Dill knew that it would take time for his sheer ability to impress itself into the hearts and minds of the men.

[Game Effect] – This fairly sweeping assessment of the Hong Kong garrison covers the completion of a land fort (which takes it up to Land Fort Level 3) in the colony.

Hong Kong fared even worse than Singapore IRL. Attacked hours after Pearl Harbour, the garrison, far weaker than Franklyn’s Corps here, managed to hold out for 17 days. On Christmas Day 1941 (known as “Black Christmas”) the Governor bowed to the inevitable and capitulated. Why did the British lose? Well, the RAF presence was even tinier than the understrength three squadrons that I’ve given them which made the air battle farcically one-sided. The garrison, which as I have said was a much smaller force of British, Canadian and Indian troops, were, as usual for the British in the Far East, too green and too dismissive of the Japanese threat. That, and the weakness of the “Gin Drinker’s Line”, the line of defensive works that I have decided to add to, makes for grim reading. There was an understanding that defending Hong Kong would be problematic IRL, and given the requirements on resources to be used elsewhere it was never a priority.

But have Eden and Halifax given the colony better odds? I’ve always tried, in this AAR, to avoid putting “the hindsight choice” in command of the key stations, and Franklyn is an example of this. From his heroic commanding of the Arras action in 1940, he has been promoted to Lieutenant General and has been given the poisoned chalice of GOC Hong Kong. A thoughtful, considerate man I think that he would do reasonably: clearly Dill approves of his defensive plans and of Voyce’s efforts to improve the lines. His only weakness was that he was probably too quiet for a command like Hong Kong, where a loud, inspirational leader would probably do well in tying together the demoralised command.

Percival makes another appearance, and here I have set him against the (fictional) Brigadier Kitchen and the (fictional) Major Voyce. His comments to Voyce mirror those he made during the defence of Singapore: he believed that the building of defensive works engendered a defensive mind. Dill probably relies on his protégé too much, but at least Percival is denied a field command (at present).

Dill is starting, belatedly, to come to terms with the massive improvements in British preparedness that need to be made in the Far East. This portrayal of him is based on his actions whilst CIGS (admittedly, here he doesn’t have the Germans and Italians to worry about) where he failed to get to grips with the Pacific theatre in any meaningful way. But after this ‘whistle-stop’ tour of the Far East he can least pester Eden and Halifax for more equipment, and get Dowding to release more planes.

Enewald: Technically, China has been annexed by Japan and a puppet regime set up. However, I am of the opinion that some Chinese would fight on – as in IRL there would be pockets of resistance that could be used by the British/Americans to tie down large numbers of Japanese troops.

Kurt_Steiner: I know, but as I have a few more ships to name Saumarez was the best I could come up with at the time!

Trekaddict: It’s a delicate balance, and at the minute I can see the Chinese being more palatable to the Americans than the slightly weird British Cabinet’s overtures.

El Pip: The “who to send” issue has been swirling around for months. I’d love to write about Winston charging around but I doubt that it would happen. Yet.

Atlantic Friend: As I said, Halifax was typical of many British politicians in that he distinguished between the European/Atlantic policies and the Far East policies fairly sharply.

DonnieBaseball: The Dill retirement issue will be coming up if I ever get to December 1941. I’m not sure that the circumstances are present in the AAR for him to go, which is a shame as he was very successful.

Nathan Madien: I agree, with one reservation – with any negotiation between Japan and the US taking place in Washington, Halifax will insist on some form of British representation where it matters. An envoy is a good idea and will feature (I’ll PM you my idea) as certain events develop, but I think that it’s not the right time at the minute.

Bafflegab: The Japanese have been, for me as the writer, a nightmare from the off. I think that they’d protest, but at the moment they seem more interested in the DEI and the USN to care about a few mules carrying bullets to China.

El Pip: As I hope I have shown, the British are not desperately weak in the Pacific: sure, there are problems that need to be addressed (the RAF in particular) but generally things are a lot better than they really were. I’m not going to spoil what happens next, but there are some interesting times to come.

MITSGS John: I think that the Japanese would probably loathe the British for their actions in 1940, whilst giving serious thought to what a well-led Commonwealth military could achieve.

Nathan Madien: As portrayed, the 1940 Presidential Election was an exceptionally close run thing, with the result that FDR leads a nation not particularly enthusiastic in its political leadership.


On a general note, I have been doing some working out. I think I can finish off 1941 in what remains of 2009. That, for various reasons, is a convenient place to say “end of Act One” as the tone and focus of the AAR will shift a bit. Hold on guys, it will get exciting, I promise!

 

[trekaddict]

Percival! *twitches*



Meh. At least London seems to make an effort to turn things around.

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

On a general note, I have been doing some working out. I think I can finish off 1941 in what remains of 2009. That, for various reasons, is a convenient place to say “end of Act One” as the tone and focus of the AAR will shift a bit. Hold on guys, it will get exciting, I promise!

Sorry for being so unpolite but... exciting? tone and focus of the AAR will shift a bit?

Mmmh...

Is Lord Halifax to grow balls?



I know, I know, I'm too harsh with Lord Halifax, but I admit that I'm improving my opinion about him with his AAR. Time will prove it.

 

[unmerged(34050)]

In OTL Dill did in '41 argue for getting some of the vast material being sent to the Middle East (and USSR) re-routed to Malaya ... of course he lost the argument to Churchill, and the argument contributed to him getting sacked as CIGS. So I can see him having a pretty good grip on the Far East situation.

I do question trying to defend Hong Kong at all--Japanese forces on the mainland can render the naval base and airfields useless in short order, not to mention the IJN cutting off any supply convoys ... a token defense seems best with the material going to Malaya (though in terms of HOI game mechanics, with a couple divisions and a level 3 fort behind a strait HK might well never fall ).

 

[trekaddict]

I do question trying to defend Hong Kong at all--Japanese forces on the mainland can render the naval base and airfields useless in short order, not to mention the IJN cutting off any supply convoys ... a token defense seems best with the material going to Malaya (though in terms of HOI game mechanics, with a couple divisions and a level 3 fort behind a strait HK might well never fall ).

True. But that gives authors the opportunity to put in massive ammounts of fortress porn, and that's always something to like, now isn't it?

 

[unmerged(34050)]

True. But that gives authors the opportunity to put in massive ammounts of fortress porn, and that's always something to like, now isn't it?

Good point--how can you not love defenses called the "Gin Drinker's Line"? :wacko:

 

[trekaddict]

Indeed. What's not to like about massive concrete bunkers with even more massive Artillery in them?

 

[MITSGS John]

Percival! *twitches*

As admirable as Dill may be, on some level I have to hope he's sacked before he can reward his protege Percival with any appointment more critical than Army liason to RAF Balloon Command.

Using my mastery of grand strategic hindsight, I'd be very tempted to evacuate Hong Kong and blow up the defenses in place upon war warning. As a naval base it's useless in the face of superior airpower. Like Salonika in the Great War it would be a self sustaining internment camp for the garrison, since as a jumping-off point for an offensive it threatens nowhere in particular. I suspect that any attempted defense of Hong Kong is linked on some level to the 19th Century "prestige" concept; if the natives find out that the Europeans can be whipped by non-Europeans then the Europeans lose their mojo and nationalism breaks out.

 

[trekaddict]

I should think that Singapore is different, since you can attack most of the Southern pacific rim from there.

 

[MITSGS John]

Indeed. What's not to like about massive concrete bunkers with even more massive Artillery in them?

Is that a fortress gun in your bunker or are you just glad...

Somebody had to say it first.

 

[unmerged(62857)]

So the defenses of Hong Kong have been improved... Well, there is always hope, but even though you can put a pig in a dress, it is still a pig... Sadly Franklyn is definitely holding the poisoned chalice.

Hopefully Singapore will be a better stroy this time.

 

[Enewald]

How crowded would Hong Kong be at this point, since there has not been a Communist-KMT on such a massive scale, but yet many must have fled the Japanese?
That line cannot be hold...

 

[El Pip]

While a not entirely re-assuring tour of the Far East at least someone has now seen it, so it wont suffer in silence as much.

As has been said holding Hong Kong has to be more of a prestige and pride thing than a logical military choice. Unless they tarmac most of the place and send half the RAF the place will be under constant bombing and unusable as a harbour.

I suppose the plus point is that as Halifax has no pride (or indeed shame) and has already lost most of Britain's prestige he can evacuate the place and lose nothing. Failing that a good back up plan would be to send Percival to command HK knowing that what ever he does wont really make much difference.

 

[unmerged(34050)]

I don't know ... just finished the book Singapore Burning and came away with much more sympathy for Percival, despite the fact that he made his share of mistakes. Raw green troops all around, no tanks (he'd recommended some as early as 1937 as a staff officer), junior commanders who were various levels of unqualified/incompetent, no air cover, piecemeal reinforcements that had to be thrown in with no time to train or even settle in ... against 3 well-trained, well-led divisions with armor and complete air/naval superiority. I dare say even Slim (who gets my vote for best British general of WWII, but take your pick) couldn't have saved that muddle.

 

[MITSGS John]

A failed defense of Hong Kong may possibly be a planning feature for a possible Anglo-Japanese War. Only a bent line of reasoning could believe that, and I'm up to the challenge.

Most recent British wars/campaigns seem to require a last ditch defense and/or defeat scenario as some kind of purification ritual before final victory can be attained. See Hougoumont 1815, Gandamack 1842, Cawnpore 1857, The Oval 1882, Khartoum 1885, Spion Kop 1900, Portland Golf Club 1947. et al.

 

[El Pip]

Most recent British wars/campaigns seem to require a last ditch defense and/or defeat scenario as some kind of purification ritual before final victory can be attained.

Very true, there is a requirement for an initial shock so the military can sack the incompetents, disregard the ideas that were kept for tradition and convince the politicians to actually fund the whole endeavour properly.

 

[Le Jones]

Chapter 142, Garrowby, 27 August 1941

It had, Halifax had moaned to his wife, been an awful summer. The weather, however delightful for schoolchildren, had proven oppressive for Lady Halifax: the migraines that plagued her had taken hold and it was through gritted teeth and a fixed smile that she struggled to support her husband. And he needed her help; the summer break had been anticipated with a mixture of hope and desperation and had instead become what Lord Halifax had christened a “conspirator’s carnival”. With their coup temporarily scuttled, Eden and his supporters had now thrown their efforts into backing Churchill’s calls for a robust response to the Japanese threat, a clever move apart from one small, though crucial weakness. For it brought Randolph Churchill into their fold.

David Margesson and his Whips had thought nothing of it when a young journalist had sought an interview; such things happened often and were a useful way of informally exchanging views: the newspapers would often come away from the meeting with valuable political information. That this young journalist belonged to The Times, for so long the fiefdom of Geoffrey Dawson, Halifax’s great friend, was even more reassuring. But, like a thunderstorm in a previously cloudlessly day, the journalist had struck with surprise.

“Darling,” Lady Halifax said to her husband as she crept cautiously into the library and snapping him away from his thoughts, “I can see their car approaching, they’ll be here in a few minutes. Shall I have cook prepare you all some lunch?”

“Thank you, my dear,” Halifax said without looking up. He was retreating increasingly into his history and his faith as a huge swathe of Europe, from the Arctic Circle to the Black Sea, was ablaze. The latest news, partially read on the table next to him, told of the frantic German retreat into Finland. On the main front, Minsk had finally fallen and German armour was racing to the East, threatening the supply lines to the Red Army forces in Leningrad and Finland. In the South, Kiev was slowly, irresistibly becoming a frontline city and a motorised column was thundering towards the Crimea. With an Axis triumph in Russia looking likely, Italy was flexing her muscle and was acting with bellicosity towards Greece: Butler had been despatched to Rome to assure Il Duce that the Empire would not sit back and let him invade Greece, a move that (thankfully) seemed to have German and French support. Eden was confident that with the ongoing wars in the Middle East, Italy could not send much of an invasion force.

“Oh, Dowothy, tell cook to use the left-over gammon. Some sandwiches and potatoes will suffice.”

“I was planning, Edward, to have cook serve beef.”

Halifax looked horrified. “No, no, we’ll have what’s left of the gammon. And I don’t want sandwiches, we shall eat it cold.”

Lady Halifax was about to challenge what she saw as a penny-pinching attitude but realised that further protest was useless. Instead she helped her husband to don his jacket and left him to welcome their guests. She smiled conspiratorially; that Halifax had invited the Chief Whip and editor of The Times to join them for the weekend was her greatest victory in her summer’s campaign of increasing support for her husband. She had chided him on the need to be courteous, to welcome them as friends as well as colleagues. As she finished her instructions to cook and looked out of the window, she was pleased to see how both Margesson and Dawson were being greeted. Casting an unimpressed glance at the cold meat and boiled potatoes being prepared for lunch she decided to “dress it up” a tad.

“So, My Lord,” Geoffrey Dawson, editor and confidante, one of the most powerful men in the Empire, began. “I am delighted that you chose to invite David and I here, but the question that I must ask is why?”

Halifax sighed. “I am conscious of the importance of consulting with my political allies and friends”. Next to him at the table David Margesson, the Conservative Chief Whip, tensed. Halifax realised that he may have gone too far. “As well as senior Party members,” he added swiftly. Margesson, ever alert, dutiful, inclined his head.

“I guessed, supposed,” Dawson said carefully, “that my lad’s tip-off about Churchill-the-Younger caused it.”

Halifax raised his good hand. “I’d wather we left that for now. I would like to ask you both how the nation and Party view us?”

Margesson spoke first. “Prime Minister, I am facing an increasingly difficult job in ensuring the loyalty of a good third of the Party. Now that the Chancellor has publicly spoken out in favour of Your Lordship’s ministry, you have the support of over two thirds of the Parliamentary Party.”

“Which means that Anthony Eden and his friends are the greatest threat,” Dawson muttered.

Halifax chewed through a piece of cold gammon. “Who, David is the most outspoken of the webels?”

“Winston Churchill,” Margesson replied immediately.

“A ha,” said Halifax, glad that for once something was going according to plan. “And who, Geoffwey, is the most publicly known of our webels?”

“I see your point, Edward,” Dawson said with a smirk, his enthusiasm causing him to call Halifax by his first name. “Winston, of course.”

Halifax abandoned a half-eaten potato and settled back into his chair. He closed his eyes: Dawson was certain that Halifax would have steepled his fingers, if he had had two hands. “So I have to finally challenge Churchill. How do I do it?”

“Well, Randy Randolph; and you obviously concur, as the Chief Whip and I are here,” Dawson said slightly excitedly.

“The Whip’s Office has contemplated removing the Whip,” Margesson said carefully. “But, Prime Minister, such a move was discontinued at Your Lordship’s request. We merely confine our activity to the warnings he received at the election, and the censures over his behaviour in the House.”

“Yes yes,” Halifax said testily, and “I wemain of that opinion. If I publicly slap him down he’ll become a martyr to his supporters. I would pwefer, therefore, to weach an agweement.”

Dawson shook his head. Margesson’s expression was unreadable.

“So, gentlemen, is such a pwoposal possible?”

“My Lord, you know Winston Churchill,” Margesson who had served with both Churchill and Halifax in the Chamberlain Government, stated with feeling. “He will not respond well to an attempt to bully him, nor will he listen to an attempt to do a deal.”

“I agree,” added Dawson. “He’ll just accuse you of trying to stifle his voice.”

“Lord Templewood, Halifax said quietly, “believes that we should use Randolph Churchill’s ongoing difficulty.”

The three men were silent for a while in contemplation of Randolph Churchill’s latest scandal. Dawson broke the quiet. “He’s in a world of trouble: our reporter isn’t the only one to find out about the affair. Half of White’s know about it.”

“I dissappwove of adultewy,” Halifax said sombrely, before adding “if that is what has happened. Is the Colonel pwoceeding with the matter?”

Margesson, who like Halifax wore his establishment credentials more strictly than Dawson, shook his head, not in response to the question but in disapproval of the whole tawdry saga. “He’ll be in hot water with his career if he does,” he said primly. “And anyway, what exactly did Randolph do?”

So Dawson, relying on the notes of his reporter and a few well-placed telephone calls to ‘people in the know’, told the sorry tale. He relayed how Randolph Churchill, trying to emerge from his father’s shadow, had contrived to interrogate his links with the Army. The new tanks, the calibre of their armament, all were subjects of interest as Randolph had built up a wealth of potential questions with which to embarrass Halifax. This was all done with the greatest of fanfare and gossip, and will with a splendid progress of parties and shooting trips. Perpetually broke, Randolph Churchill, abandoning his young wife to the care of his parents, had borrowed a huge sum of money from his financially precarious father; Winston Churchill had therefore funded his son’s infidelity. For at one of the parties, had seduced, bedded and ultimately impregnated the wife of one of his military hosts, Colonel Shannon Mullis of His Majesty’s Irish Guards. His slender, flirtatious wife, Marjorie Mullis, had fallen for the charm of the young MP, so much younger and wittier than her aloof, terse husband. And then she had fallen pregnant. Mullis, who had long ago abandoned any hope of being a father, was immediately suspicious and had extracted a confession; and he was prepared to risk all to avenge his humiliation.

Halifax was intrigued. “How did Wandolph weact?”

“Begged me not to disgrace him. He wants Eden to have a little chat with Colonel Mullis,” Margesson said precisely. “He will be loyal so long as we assist him.”

“So now you need to silence Winston,” Dawson added.

“Yes, I will do it gently...”

“Now, Prime Minister,” Dawson began.

“I will adopt what I believe is the cawwot and stick appwoach.”

Margesson was confused. “Prime Minister?”

“The stick is simple: Winston must be more wespectful to the pwevailing view of the Party if his son is to have a future in it,” Halifax spoke with rare eloquence: he knew that both Dawson and Margesson would carry these words far beyond the gates of Garrowby. “I will extwact the cessation of webellion in exchange for the full wesource of the Party in supporting Wandolph Churchill.”

The plot was hatched. They paused as a servant cleared away the (largely uneaten) gammon, and a tray of delicious looking cakes was brought in. Halifax’s eyes began to widen, more so when Cole entered with a tray of stirrup cups and began to pour from a bottle of sherry with a touch of a flourish. Halifax rolled his eyes; he realised that Lady Halifax had sent Cole into the village to buy the cakes, though he was pleased that Dawson and Margesson seemed to be loving them.

Dawson inspected the impressively ornate stirrup cups. “You mentioned the stick, but I do not see a carrot in all of this.”

“Ah,” Halifax said, enjoying the confusion of his friend. “That is because you have not wead this.” He held up a letter, the proud motif of the President of the United States at its head. “This is a short letter fwom Pwesident Woosevelt, in weply to one sent by me last month.”

Margesson, who as a member of the Cabinet was aware of Halifax’s attempt to engage with the President, looked pleased. “What does it say?”

“A load of twipe, actually. Hot air and whetowic on the need to be careful, not to confuse Tokyo with too many overtures. But he likes our policy on the Burma Woad.”

“Were you considering a diplomatic move from us?” Dawson was intrigued, and like a good editor was already imagining the approach to take.

“May I inject the strongest possible note of caution,” Margesson said quickly. “The mood in the Party would be staunchly hostile to this.”

“Then,” Halifax said tartly, “it is a good jolly good thing that we are not going to do that. The Pwesident, I think, wants to wetain a stwong gwip on dealings with the Japanese. His suggestion, which I like, is that we sit in on the negotiations between Amewica and Japan.”

“Sit in, Edward?” That was Dawson.

“Yes, essentially to show a united fwont. He offers to invite an envoy fwom London to engage in talks. It can, if we wish it, be Lord Woolton, or it can be someone else.”

“Churchill?” Margesson looked horrified.

“No, no, I suspect he’ll want to pick one of his little fwiends to go with Woolton. I am wary of Woosevelt; he stwikes me as a Twickster. I therefore suspect that he’ll fob-off our emissary, but if he is hand-picked by the webels they will have to support him. My letter to Woosevelt, as I explained to Cabinet, was clear in its case that we need to work with Amewica. But I will not sacwifice the Bwitish Empire to keep some tiresome Amewicans happy.”

“How will you put this to Winston?”

“I have invited him to Chequers, where Templewood, Attlee and I, as well as Winston, will pwepare to select the person.” Halifax turned to Dawson. “Your paper, Geoffwey will be essential. I shall make sure that you are given the details of the meeting, with a clear expectation that you will come out in stwong support of a senior, independent, political figure going over there.”

Dawson smiled Margesson nodded his approval. “The backbenchers will like this, Prime Minister. They will probably want a prominent figure to go.”

[Game Effect] – Halifax belatedly deals with Churchill as Lady Halifax continues to be her husband’s best advisor. Is there an element of Lady Macbeth in all of this? Probably not, more that of a loyal wife trying to guide her husband as best she can. With Halifax’s good friend Geoffrey Dawson, the staunchly pro-Chamberlain (and Halifax) editor of The Times coming to lunch with the Chief Whip, you would assume that a decent meal be prepared. In the finest traditions of the miser, he puts on a characteristically crap lunch which is saved by Lady Halifax.

Dawson, as I have said above, ensured that his newspaper was generally loyal to both Chamberlain IRL, and here Halifax, in not pushing too hard when the dangers of appeasement were obvious. Margesson, though less of a friend that Dawson, was still very loyal and was a superlative Chief Whip, leading the his staff in regulating and enforcing the discipline of the Party. The situation in KFM, with its plots, coups, and internal fighting is clearly a Whip’s nightmare: unlike IRL, where he was moved to the War Office, he has done well to survive the bloodletting and reshuffles and will probably stay where he is.

The real matters in this update, the climax of both the Tory plots and the hesitant attempts to align British and US policy, see Winston Churchill being invited to consider the reply to FDR’s letter. The hardliners are taking over in Tokyo and the Americans will meet with the Japanese. Will Churchill fall for Halifax’s trap? He might, given the chaos in the backbenches and the pressure of the media. Halifax is weak, and so Churchill and his gang may be in a position to wield power. He might nominate a junior MP favourable to the “webels” is sent over to observe the meetings. Would FDR really do this – invite a Brit over there? Well, with a powerful IJN roaming around the Pacific the RN would be useful to the USN. FDR can also use the leverage that working with the Commonwealth (presumably along for the ride) would bring. “Look, Britain, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, all support me” could be a useful argument, one that FDR could grasp if required. But who does Halifax send?

Trekaddict: Percival is a useful “bogeyman” that I can wheel out from time to time.

Kurt_Steiner: Hmmn, genuinely not sure how to take that.

DonnieBaseball: Material does not equate to having a ‘grip’ on a situation, though yes, you are correct that he at least saw the need for reinforcement. Dill himself admitted to Brooke upon the latter’s superseding him as CIGS that he had done “practically nothing” about the Far East.

Trekaddict: Funnily enough that thought was ever present in this update – how the defence of Hong Kong (if war breaks out) could be prepared. But the AI is always slightly erratic in attacking Land Forts...

DonnieBaseball: I know, it’s an absolutely great term for a defensive position!

Trekaddict:

MITSGS John: Oh, absolutely, the desire to defend Hong Kong is predicated on prestige, pure and simple; can’t be seen to lose out to the natives etc. But it’s a powerful motive for the 1941 British Empire, and one that will command attention for many updates to come.

Trekaddict: Singapore is strategically important, more so than Hong Kong, but don’t rule Hong Kong out. Franklyn has done a decent job in starting to set up a proper Hong Kong Command. Both Singapore and Hong Kong are in a better position than they were in the real WW2.

MITSGS John: Oh dear...

Bafflegab: It is a poisoned chalice, but a slightly less poisonous poisoned chalice than the real-life poisoned chalice. I think.

Enewald: I have to confess that the humanitarian aspect of the conflict hadn’t occurred, and Hong Kong probably would be the intended destination of the refugees. Good point Enewald, one very well made.

El Pip: I really think that Lord H would want to cling on to every titbit of Empire he could. Hence Hong Kong will be subjected to a long siege.

DonnieBaseball: Percival as GOC in 1941 refused to heed much of his own advice from ’37. He didn’t really pester Whitehall for adequate resources, dealt lamentably with his subordinates and a disastrously confused relationship with the other services. I agree that a Slim/Monty/Alexander character would also struggle, but when the Imperial troops needed leadership the most all they got was Percival’s indecisive, timid, staff-officer management. He has to shoulder a hell of the lot of the blame for the loss.

MITSGS John: There is also the issue of the fatal underestimation of the Japanese fighting qualities, and one that may cost the Hong Kong Corps dearly.

El Pip: But will Halifax be capable of that?